


What You Feel

by neaf



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neaf/pseuds/neaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What you need and what you feel are very, very different things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Feel

Darren lingers in the quiet, content to just be held on to. Chris knows, he _knows_ that Darren doesn’t need more than that, just arms around his waist and a kiss to his skin, just acceptance and reality anchoring him again after a day of camera flash and pretending - but Chris? Chris needs more. When it comes to Darren, he always needs more.

So when the moments turn to minutes and the quiet presses in, he lets out a tiny sound, just barely above a breath because his body made the choice without him. His long fingers uncurl from his grip on his own wrist where they were pressed against Darren’s stomach, and slide slowly down with a skipping push across warm, damp skin. He doesn’t even know he’s done it till his fingers are sliding under the waist band of Darren’s shorts, and he can taste Darren’s skin on his tongue - the smooth muscle of Darren’s shoulder pressed against his teeth.

He feels Darren’s moan vibrate in his throat as his fingers find their mark and close slowly, coiling into a fist and sliding down the rapidly hardening length of him. Darren’s head tips back, whisper-soft pleading noises escaping his lips in bursts of percussion.

Chris grips Darren’s hip tightly with his free hand, holding him steady as he strokes lazily at his cock and presses tiny frantic kisses up the side of his neck to his jaw. He can feel his grip fumbling on Darren’s hip, squeezing and pressing fingers into flesh like he’s almost scared to let go. Darren’s head lolls against his shoulder, knees bending and dropping his weight heavily into Chris’s body, but Chris barely sways. He holds tight, and strokes him faster, still worshipping skin with his lips as Darren tries to do the same around breathless moans of _Chris_ and _oh god_ and _I love you_.

He knows it’s building fast, it feels like electricity under his hands, and he presses his face into Darren’s hair - blood surging in his ears as Darren comes hard over his fist with a long, drawn out cry before he slumps completely. Chris’s eyes are closed, his mouth open and cheek pressed tight into dark curls as he gently strokes Darren through his orgasm, trying to remember how to breathe.

Darren shakes, after awhile, he stirs and he trembles and he seems barely steady on his feet while Chris pulls his hand out, wiping it absently on the fabric of his shorts and smiling softly to himself.

Callused fingers curl tightly around the backs of his thighs, and Chris can feel Darren sliding, using the friction of their bodies to tease.

Darren throws a lazy smile over his shoulder, ducking to nip kisses at the underside of Chris’s jaw.

Chris hums quietly, blinking too slowly and flexing instinctively at the sharp thrills that are shooting up his spine from the way Darren is rolling his hips.

It takes all the strength he has to stop from grinding back, instead moving to wrap one arm around Darren’s waist. He presses a slow, wet kiss to the top of Darren’s spine, teeth grazing skin, and smirks at the shudder that ripples under his hands. Two jerky steps and Darren is pressed into the wall, chest-first, with Chris closing in around him silently and slipping fingers into the waistband of his shorts again.

He presses one more lingering kiss to the warm skin behind Darren’s ear and licks at the shell of it, earning a whimper. Slowly, he pushes the band of Darren’s shorts down far enough, over the curve of muscle and skin, and drops them to the floor, coiled at Darren’s ankles.

Darren lets out a heavy breath, eyes closed, skin prickling in anticipation. His hips are pushing back, seeking contact, seeking anything, wanting Chris to touch him, god, touch him _anywhere._

Chris slides his hands over Darren’s body from shoulders to thighs, following the path with tiny kisses as he moves. He drops to the floor, kissing each thigh in turn before he settles on his knees and looks up with a smirk.

“Spread your legs.”


End file.
